


As Time Rewinds

by AnotherWriterWhoWrites



Series: 2019 365 Days of Writing [33]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Men of Letters (Supernatural), Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Episode: s08e12 As Time Goes By, Family Feels, Gen, Henry Winchester Lives, I haven't decided, John is a good father fight me, Maybe - Freeform, Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Men of Letters John, Young Dean Winchester, Young Sam Winchester, Young Winchesters (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2019-11-07 21:22:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 9,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17968283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherWriterWhoWrites/pseuds/AnotherWriterWhoWrites
Summary: When Henry used his time travel spell to escape Abaddon he aimed at finding his son as a Man of Letters in the future. Instead he finds his son a hunter, two grandsons, and a new future.





	1. Chapter 1

John kept his gaze on the man, shotgun pointed on him directly towards his chest. The boys were still in the motels bedroom, mercifully still asleep. The man had his hands up, palms towards him. 

“John, you need to believe me.” the man said, his voice familiar that it hurt. It was patient and calming and John hated every last sound coming from him. 

“I don’t need to do a damn thing.” John said lowly, anger keeping it down and the desire to make sure the boys remained asleep. “Either you’re a shifter that I need to kill, or you are who you claim to be and I want nothing to do with.”

That seemed to pain the man at least and John relished that look on his face. “John-” he said, taking a step forward.

John immediately raised the shotgun up a bit more, keeping his finger on the trigger. “Only reason you’re not dead is cause I want to know your game.” and if he was able to, keep his sons asleep.

The man breathed out slowly, keeping his hands up. “John, it's me.” he said softly. “I promise you it's me.”

John sneered out a breath of a laugh. “Might’ve worked a few years ago, but I don’t believe you.” he barely registered the urge to go closer to the man. “But I know what’s out there, and I know what they can do.”

The man nodded, at least accepting that. He looked around the room for a moment, distaste clear on his face as he took in the less than great conditions of the motel room, but his eyes settled on the silver knife on the table. “Then let me prove who I am.”

Without taking his eyes off of the man John slowly stepped towards the table, keeping him in his gaze as well as the shotgun aimed right at him. He quickly snatched the knife off the table and walked towards him. 

The man reached for the knife but John jerked back, narrowing his eyes. The man sighed and moved slowly to pull his sleeve back to reveal plain skin and held it out to him. 

John didn’t waste a moment as he let his hand snap out, making a cut on his arm. The man flinched at the pain but otherwise nothing else happened. He reached into his breast pocket to pull out a handkerchief and dabbed at the cut. “I’m human John.”

“You might be human, but that doesn't’t mean you are who you say you are.” John said, gritting his teeth as his mind tried to figure out what was happening. He was tired and drained, his sons were feet away from this potential danger, and he wanted nothing more than to just go to sleep and end the day. 

The man nodded and seemed to think to himself for a moment. “You and I often went to the movies, you liked the driveins the most.” he said, a fond smile on his face. “You were a rambunctious child but you still had a bit of fear of the darkness in your room. I got you a small music box, it played ‘As Time Goes By’.”

John blinked rapidly, his breathing becoming heavier. He still sometimes remembered that music box and at times he could hum the song for Sam and Dean. 

“Your mother, bless her, was the best cook we ever knew but my god that woman was able to burn everything when she tried to bake, by some chance she never burned the house down when she baked.” the man continued. “But we still pretended to like her baking to not hurt her feelings. The last thing she baked that we had together was this strange concoction of chocolate and ginger, we both thought she used the wrong spice with the ginger but she was so proud that we just ate them.”

John willed himself not to shake, tightening his grip on the knife's handle and trying to resist the urge to bury it into the man's chest regardless. “You left.” he said lowly. 

“It wasn’t supposed to be like that, I wasn’t supposed to be gone forever.” the man, John didn’t want to name him just yet. “I was just trying to get away from Abaddon and as soon as I was able to, as soon as I could recover enough, I would’ve come back.”

“Who the hell is Abaddon?” John couldn’t help but ask. “And what are you talking about?”

“Abaddon is a demon.” Henry told him. “Something I’m sure that you’re familiar with at this point.”

John raised an eyebrow at him. “At this point?” he repeated. 

The man nodded. “Of your studying and readings.” he said obviously. “What level have you reached?”

John blinked for a moment and finally forced himself to let go of the knife but kept his tight grip on the shotgun. “Again, what the hell are you talking about?”

The man stared back at him as well in confusion. “If you don’t know what I’m talking about how do you know about shifters?”

“Because I regularly hunt them.” John snapped at him, anger shortening his patience and barely remembering to keep his voice low. “I’m a hunter.”

He stared at him in horror, the look was very reminiscent of when John had come back home after school with a black eye from fighting. “You’re a what?” he asked in a hushed voice. 

“I’m a hunter.” John repeated, anger clear in his voice. “Now you better tell me what the hell is going on now.”

“None of this makes sense.” Henry murmured, running his fingers through his hair. “You’re not supposed to be a hunter, this wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

John's eyes followed him as he walked around the room. “What are you talking about?” he finally asked, trying to sort through the feelings that were coursing through him. 

Henry looked at him. “I’m talking about your legacy, you were supposed to be initiated as a Man of Letters.”


	2. Chapter 2

Before Henry could say anything else, especially in trying to explain what the Men of Letters were, Johns attention was on the bedroom door opening slightly. Immediately he was in front of it, hand coming out to stop it from opening anymore. He moved the shotgun down and put it against the wall so that it wasn’t seen.

Despite the dark of the room he could make out Deans outline, staring up at him from the side, at the motion of John he had moved away from the door and John nodded at him. 

“Go back to bed buddy.” John whispered, keeping his voice low and trying to keep any stress out of it. Dean stared up at him, his green eyes that were so much like Marys had too much wisdom and looked too old for his nine year old frame.

“What’s wrong?” Dean whispered back at him, either copying John or trying to keep Sammy asleep. A quick glance at the bed showed that Sam wasn’t asleep either, sitting up in the bed staring at him too. John managed a small smile at the both of them. 

“Just talking to someone, everything’s okay.” John assured them, reaching out to lightly slide his hand over Deans head. “Go back to bed, its okay.”

Neither of his sons looked like they believed him but obediently Dean padded back to the bed and curled around Sam. Sam glanced at him one more time before he laid down and did the same, holding onto his brother.

John spared them one more glance before he pulled back out of the room and closed the door, turning back towards Henry. 

Henry had a unreadable expression on his face, his features were soft however. “You have a kid?” he asked, his voice light. 

“Kids.” John corrected him, still not at ease, still still wishing that he could take his shotgun and get rid of this problem like the others. “Two sons.”

Henry smiled at that, moving enough to the side to look at the door. John immediately stepped in front of it, preventing him from looking at it, a fierce surge of protectiveness coursing through him. 

“You have sons.” Henry said softly and John tried to ignore how much he had missed that voice, patient and calm, wrapping his scraps in bandages. “I’m a grandfather.”

Whatever he was managing to hold onto snapped and John came forward. His arm snapped out and he grabbed at Henry, barely restraining from slamming him into the wall, he didn’t want to alert Sam and Dean obviously. 

“You’re nothing, you don’t have that title.” John told him, his voice low and dangerous. “You might be him but you sure as hell don’t have the right to talk like that, to even look at them.”

“John, talk to me.” Henry told him, either uncaring or ignoring how John was gripping at his jacket front. “What happened? You’re not a man of letters, you’re...a hunter. How did that happen?”

“My wife was killed by something that came into our home.” John said lowly, refraining some snapping at him. “She was killed in our son's nursery.”

“I’m sorry.” Henry told him and he did sound like it. He seemed to be thinking for a moment. “How did she die?”

John blinked at him. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“If you’re saying a supernatural being killed her in your sons nursery room, the first step is to figure out what killed her.” Henry told him. “And you can usually tell by how it happened.”

John stared at him for a moment, resisting the urge to punch him regardless. “She burned to death, pinned to the….to the ceiling of the nursery room, her stomach cut open.” he couldn’t help the small shudder that went through him, the image of Mary pinned, horror and pain on her face before the fire started. 

Henry's eyes were widened at that. “What else?” he asked urgently. “What else happened that night? Did you smell anything? Notice anything else?”

John stared at him for a moment before he slowly let go of his jacket, taking one step back. “No.” he said curtly. “A psychic told me it was something powerful and evil, that’s it.”

Henry let out a small breath, glancing once more towards his sons room and once again John stepped in front of his gaze. 

“John, if it's what I think it is, then...this is going to be bad.” Henry told him. “Something I was running away from.”

Henry took his jacket off and carefully folded it and placed it on the armrest of the couch. He went to the table and took one of the pencils and a piece of paper. He quickly drew a six pointed aquarian star. 

“This is the symbols of the men of letters.” Henry said. “We're preceptors, beholders, chroniclers of all that which man does not understand. We share our findings with a few trusted hunters – the very elite. They do the rest.”

“What’s the point of this?” John asked, just wanting to get to the point and be able to get to sleep. 

“Our lineage is a legacy, my father was a man of letters, his father was a man of letters and his father before and his father.” Henry said. “And you were supposed to be raised as one as well as your sons.”

“Well that’s not how it turned out.” John said, his voice straining as he tried to keep it down. “What the hell does this have to do with my wife's death?”

Henry obtained a sad, almost pitiful, look on his face at that. 

“John.” he said gently, the same tone he used when John had brought home a baby bird he had found that was dead. “She was killed by a demon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Supernatural. 
> 
> 62/365
> 
> I do take requests so if you have requests you can send them to me.


	3. Chapter 3

John had to call Bobby at that point and ask the man to come immediately and pick his son's up and take them back to his house for a bit. He had handcuffed Henry to the living room radiator and went to the bedroom to wake them up and get them and their belongings ready. 

“Why are we going to Bobby's?” Dean asked as he stuffed a shirt into his bag. John reached out to tug the shirt free and folded it, making sure that Dean was watching. 

“There’s something I need to do and I want you boys safe.” John told him, glancing at Sam who was painstakingly packing his books carefully into his bag. 

“Is it about that guy last night?” Dean asked, taking the now folded shirt from John and putting it away.

“Yes.”John said. “I’m trying to figure something out, I’ll come get you boys when I do.”

Sam and Dean shared a look and then looked back at their dad, Sam was clutching onto a stuffed worn out dog and he hugged it to his chest. 

“How long we gotta be at Bobbys?” Sam asked, curling his hand around the ear of the dog .

“Don’t know buddy, I’ll try to be fast.” John assured him. Outside he could hear Bobby's trucks horn sound. “There’s Bobby, he’ll get you boys breakfast.”

Dean helped Sam to put his jacket on and then the boys slid their backpacks on and Dean took Sam's hand in his. “Are you gonna eat?”

“Later.” John promised him. “Just gotta do a couple of things first.”

Dean adopted a semi stern look on his face. “You gotta eat dad.” he told him. 

John laughed softly and reached out to ruffle his hair. “I will, don’t worry.” he could hear Bobby's horn once more. “Now lets go before Bobby drives off.”

John stepped to the side and herded the boys out, using his body to shield them from Henry's gaze. He could see Henry trying to get a glimpse of the boys, moving as much as the handcuffs let him. When Sam tried to look around John he just reached out and gently turned his sons face away. 

He didn’t want his sons to even see Henry, let alone allow the man to see his sons. He tried to push down the over protectiveness rising in him and thankfully they were outside.

He hugged the boys and helped them into the back of Bobby's truck. He nodded at the other man who nodded back, their original and first agreement still in effect. 

If something happened to him then Bobby would take care of the boys. 

Stepping back he watched as BObby got onto the road and drove away, smiling and waving when he saw the boys looking back at him once more. 

Taking a deep breath he went back into the motel room, staring at Henry who easily watched him back. 

“They seem nice.” he said softly. “From what I’ve seen, you’re a good dad. You sent them away?”

“Not just going to let them stay here.” John said, leaning against the wall and staring at the man. “Or abaddon them.”

Henry looked pained for a moment. “John I never wanted to-”

“Don’t-.” John interrupted. “I don’t care. You said that my wife was killed by a demon, that’s what I care about. Demnos are rare and there are very few possessions, only the weakest of minds get possessed, why would they target my wife?”

“I don't know, but it all fits, there are not a lot of monstres out there that can do what you told me.” Henry said before he paused for a moment. “Technically three but the last two aren’t native to America.”

John ignored that for a moment. “How do I find this demon?”

Henry breathed out slowly. “To do anything even remotely close to that, first you need to figure out which demon and from the sounds of it it sounds powerful, we need more help.”

“I already have contacts in the hunting community.” John said going to his notebook. “What do I need to tell them?”

Henry shook his head. “Not that kind of help, hunters,” he couldn’t completely keep the distaste out of his voice. “Aren't the kind of people that we should ask for help from or could help.”

“I’m a hunter.” John told him in a warning tone. “Then where the hell do we get help?”

Henry glanced towards his jacket. “There’s a small box there, can you get it for me?”

John went to the jacket and pulled the jacket out. Ignoring Henry's extended hand he looked it over and slowly slid an opening, revealing a heavy silver key. “What’s this for?”

“Its for where we need to go.” Henry told him. “Lebanon, Kansas. The men of letters bunker.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Supernatural.
> 
> 77/365
> 
> I do take requests so if you have requests you can send them to me.


	4. Chapter 4

There were no words to describe the men of letters bunker. 

John walked around in a daze trying to take everything in. Dimly he could hear Henry was saying something but his voice faded into the background. 

He tried to take everything in, tried to comprehend the fact that something like this was not only possible but real and, if Henry's words were true, only he and Henry were the only ones to know about it, the others were no longer in contact and if the rest of the bunker was telling the truth, they were the only ones in here for a long, long time.

He could...this place was safe. It was the safest thing he had ever seen. Henry had mentioned that it was guarded and protected with everything known to the men of letters, meaning that it was the safest place on earth. 

So that meant...that there was no other safe place in the world for his sons than this place. 

John swallowed hard, his mind starting to work faster with each passing thought. 

There was a school in town that they had passed, an elementary school and a middle school. He could bring his sons here, settle in the bunker with them. They could have a single base, something more concrete and certain than just the impala. 

Sam and Dean could go to school, maybe make friends with other people's kids in town. They could be as normal as they could be living in the bunker surrounded by everything that he could see and things that he couldn't. 

He wouldn't have to worry about motels anymore, he wouldn't have to worry about or have the guilt of leaving his sons at a motel room alone for the night anymore. 

He could protect his sons so much more, learn more about the truth about what had happened to his wife and how to get revenge for her, have more time to be a dad to his sons and not just a father. 

“There's so much more in here than you can even think of.” Henry continued, oblivious to how little John had actually been paying attention to. He walked around the room smiling fondly at everything. “I’m sure it's old by your standards but back when I was being sworn in it was the top of the line.”

He meant the radios that John could see, radars, a giant telescope that he got glimpses of. They were older than John was used to working with but he could tell that from their still pristine conditions that most likely they would all still work. 

John slowly followed Henry as the both of them moved around the bunker, mentally mapping everything out as best as he could. 

There were more bedrooms than he knew what to do with. Despite that he knew that regardless of where he put Sam and Dean they would find one another to sleep in the same room and be together, they might even come to his chosen bedroom as well.

The library seemed endless, it was filled with books upon books upon books on countless shelves. There were boxes neatly stacked in each closet, nook, and cranny that he could find. 

Which meant that there had to be something, anything, in here that would help him avenge his wife. 

“Men of letters used to work with certain hunter, only the best of the best.” Henry continued, either not noticing or uncaring that John had stopped listening. “They’re all probably dead at this point, hunters regardless never lived that long. Murphy, Garelick, Elkins Campbell-”

Despite himself John couldn't help but laugh softly at the last name, shaking his head fondly. “Campbell, that was my wife's maiden name.” he murmured. 

Henry looked at him, a varying look of amusement and a touch of sadness on his face. “What was her name?” he asked softly. 

“Mary.” John said, feeling his chest tighten at the thought of her still. That pain was never going to go away no matter what and a part of him relished in it. 

“Mary.” Henry repeated, still smiling softly. “I wish I could've met her.” he glanced around the bunker. “Although if you had been initiated properly you never would've met her either.”

“No, I would have found her.” John said shaking his head. “I would have found her eventually.”

Henry shook his head and focused on going forward before he paused, mouthing something to himself. “Mary...Campbell?”

John glanced at him, his thumb stroking over his wedding ring. “Yes.”

Henry swallowed hard and turned back to John. “I worked with a hunter a few months before I was partnered with another woman of letters.” he said. “He said that he had a daughter close to my sons age.”

“And?”

Henry seemed to steel himself for a moment, taking a deep breath and straightening up. “And his name was Samuel Campbell, and he told me his daughters name was Mary.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Supernatural. 
> 
> 111/365
> 
> I do take requests so if you have requests you can send them to me.


	5. Chapter 5

“You’re lying.”

“John I have no reason to lie about this-”

“Then you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“I remember all of it quite clearly actually and-”

“Then you have the wrong people and the wrong names.”

John glared at Henry, hands shaking as he fought, not for the first time, to punch the other man. Henry met his gaze evenly, unyielding. 

“John, I understand that this is confusing.” Henry said. “But I know what I heard and I know what I was told. Samuel Campbell was a hunter who was settled in Lawrence, Kansas and he was married to a woman named Deanna Campbell. He had one child, a daughter named Mary and-”

Whatever Henry was about to say it was cut off when John lunged forward and punched him in the face as hard as he could. Blood spilled down his front as the bone broke and Henry stumbled backwards, hitting the wall with a shout of pain as his hand came up to his face. 

John breathed heavily, knuckles aching slightly. He could feel blood drying on it slowly and he had to forcefully keep himself from continuing punching him. 

Henry's hand was shaking as he took a handkerchief out of his pocket, gently dabbing his nose to wipe away the blood. “You don't need to get physical.”

“Shut up.” John said lowly and dangerously. “Shut up, shut the hell up. You don't know what you’re talking about. My wife wasn't a hunter, she didn't know about the supernatural.”

“And how do you know that?” Henry asked, still dabbing his nose with the handkerchief. He glanced at it for a moment and continued. “You had no idea before her death, maybe she just never brought it up.”

“She would've told me, she would've told me everything.” John said lowly. “We didn't have secrets from each other, we were always truthful no matter what and this isn't something she would have hidden from me.”

“Unless she was trying to get away from it.” Henry said, his voice slightly muffled. “If you didn't know that meant she didn't do any hunting or doing anything supernatural in front of you. Maybe she didn't want to have to deal with it anymore and wanted to take the road without it. Bringing it up would have made you want to know more.”

John shook his head and turned away from him, his hand coming up to cover his mouth as his mind desperately and rapidly went through his memories, trying to find a hint of something, anything that would show that Mary was aware of the supernatural in any way.

“It's rather humorous though.” Henry said quietly. “When Samuel told me he had a daughter my sons age he laughed and joked, saying that maybe we should arrange a marriage of convenience to bring the two sides together, hunters and men of letters. Put our differences aside and make an alliance.”

John closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, he needed to focus and he needed to think things out clearly. Whether or not Mary knew about the supernatural was a moot point now, she was gone and she wasn't going to be able to answer any questions about it. 

He needed to avenge her. He needed to keep their sons safe from everything else that was out there. He needed to think things through and go through everything step by step. 

First things first, he needed to look more through the bunker to see more of what was here. Maybe find a catalog of some sort that told him where everything was and what was here. 

Bring his sons here, give them a semblance of a normal life here, safe and sound and secured in a way he never thought was going to be possible. 

Bring Bobby into this of course, the other man knew more than John did and he’d be more than happy and willing to work in the bunker to help him. 

He also needed to figure out how to handle and what to do with Henry once and for all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Supernatural. 
> 
> 140/365
> 
> I do take requests so if you have requests you can send them to me.


	6. Chapter 6

“This place is enormous!”

The boys exclaimed that in unison, eyes wide and amazed with stars in them as they looked around them in wonder. Behind them Bobby was a bit more reserved but John could see the appreciation in his eyes as he slowly walked in. 

“I know its a lot to take in but you need to-” John started to say when suddenly the boys shot forward. He moved quickly, grabbing the back of their shirts and pulling them back towards him. “You two need to stay close to me.” he said, holding onto them. “Are you two listening?”

The look on their faces told him that they didn't hear a word he had said. Sighing he looked at Bobby and handed Dean to him, focusing on keeping Sam at least with him. Bobby held onto Dean in turn, shaking his head. 

“Both of you listen to me.” John said, his voice taking an authoritative tone. It was enough to snap the two out of their daze and look at him. “This place is big, really big. I haven't seen all of it and I don't know where a lot of things are. If you two run off and get lost its going to be hard to find you. I’ll always find you, but it might take time, alright?” he waited for the both of them to nod. “Good, now I get that its a lot and its big and you want to explore, so do I.”

He glanced around and shook his head. “So until we know this place a lot better, please stay close and with me or Bobby, alright?”

Sam and Dean looked at one another but ultimately nodded, relaxing in their grips. John looked up at Bobby and then let go, letting them come back together and thankfully not run away again. 

He took their hands in his and slowly started to lead them around the parts he had seen in the bunker. He could see Bobby eyeing the library and nodded at him, letting the other man go into the library to take a look. 

“There's a lot of bedrooms here too, so you boys can have your own rooms.” John told him. “There's a school in town so you two will go there too.”

Sam was quiet for a moment, looking around them. “How long are we gonna stay?”

“Forever.” John told them. “This is a really safe place so we don't need to keep going around to motels. I might need to go on hunts sometimes but you boys can stay here, I’ll call Bobby so he’ll come over to watch you boys.”

Sam's eyes were wide and he looked at his brother. “We’re gonna stay?” he whispered, tightening his hold on John's hand. “No more moving around?”

John nodded, ignoring the guilt that always arose in him when this was brought up. “No more moving around, we’re staying here from now on.”

They were going to go to town later tonight as well to stock up on food and everything else they needed. The boys will pick out rooms, he was still sure that they were going to stay in the same room for the time being, and they’d move in completely. It wasn’t like there was anyone else here that would have a problem with that. 

Tomorrow he’d look into the schools again, find out if he could enroll them in for this year or if they needed to wait for September. Already he could see how Sam would join some clubs, Dean might try out for some of the sports teams. They’d have those school plays that he and Mary had been making plans to go to and now he could. 

More and more he could see his boys having a normal life here, or as normal as could be with everything else around them. They’d still train and be ready and know how to hunt and how to protect themselves but ultimately, they would be normal and the thought brought a hint of tears to his eyes.

He wasn't sure where Henry was in the bunker and quite frankly, he didn't care. 

A part of him was a bit pained at the thought of it all, the part of him that never healed from his father disappearing and wanting that closure. The son that wanted his father. 

But he was older now, he had responsibilities and he had his own sons to look after now. He needed to focus on them and what they needed more than anything else and if that meant ignoring his own father, he was alright with that. 

His sons were more important to him than Henry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Supernatural. 
> 
> 153/365
> 
> I do take requests so if you have requests you can send them to me.


	7. Chapter 7

John grabbed the key that Henry had left on the table and pocketed it before gathering the boys and going into town to get them food. There was a small diner there that they could get dinner at and then stop at a supermarket to stock up. 

He told the boys not even to whisper about the bunker while they were in town, he didn’t need anyone else to hear about it and get curious. Treat it like another supernatural thing for now. 

At the diner he also got two meals to go, one for Bobby and one for Henry back at the bunker. 

John felt oddly light in a way he hadn’t in a while as he thought more and more about the bunker and what it would mean. At the very least it was stability and a safe place for his sons to be and for that, that was worth a hell of a lot more than anything else in the world.

He also couldn’t stop smiling when he saw how happy his boys were, they listened to him and didn’t talk about the bunker but they had other whispers. Talks about how to decorate their rooms, whether or not they were going to be able to put a television in their rooms too to watch cartoons. 

Deciding to make the day a bit more better he also got snacks and cereals that the boys loved but they couldn’t always get. He glanced over the sugar percent in them and shook his head but added to it the cart as well as fresh fruits and vegetables. 

They were going to be able to save so much more money on motels now so he figured that he could afford some of these things to make his sons happy again. 

And they were, he felt his chest warm at the sight of their smiles and excited looks. It seemed that the bunker was too old to have any working televisions there so they’d have to work on that but for the night at least, the boys will be preoccupied. 

Once they got back to the bunker he put the boys to work in putting things away. Perishables went into the refrigerator, old like everything else in the bunker, and everything else was put into a storage closet right next to the kitchen. 

John picked a bedroom that was close to the front of the bunker, it was still far enough from everything that he couldn’t hear anything from the front but close enough that he could get there in less than thirty seconds. 

He then helped the boys pick their own rooms as well. For the time being he picked two rooms that were right next to each other and to his room, he needed to make sure that they were as close as possible to him. 

He then took Sam and Dean hand in hand and they started to go through the bunker, peering into the rooms they passed. Most of the rooms were empty bedrooms while more were various storage closets. 

Those were filled with various objects, some of which were boxed and some were freely out and John immediately pulled his boys back, already knowing that they were two seconds away from running in and looking through everything. 

“Think there’s a map?” Dean asked, eyes still locked on the closest box, fingers twitching as if he was about to rush in and look through it. 

John pulled the both of them out of the room and closed the door, holding onto them tightly before they got any other ideas. 

“Maybe, there should be at least.” John said, leading them back to the front of the bunker. “Or we can make one.”

Later that night when the boys started to drift off he brought them to their chosen rooms and set them in the bed, lingering beside each one before going into the hallway. 

John took a deep breath, staying in the hallway and glancing back at the boys doors, taking a deep breath. 

The boys had not slept away from him ever since way back before the whole mess started. Back in their old house Sammy had his nursery and Dean had his room, and of course John and Mary had theirs. But motels, the motels they stayed at at least, did not give them those luxuries. 

John tried to calm himself down, he knew that they were in a safe, if not the safest place, it was alright for him to leave the boys alone in a room that he was right next to. 

Shaking his head, he already knew that he wasn’t going to be able to sleep in his room tonight, he sat down in the hallway, debating to get a pillow from his chosen bedroom at least. 

He looked up when Deans door opened, blinking in surprise when he saw Dean sleepily standing there, rubbing at his eyes. 

“Hey buddy.” John said softly, reaching for his son. “Can’t sleep?”

Dean shook his head and curled more into Johns arms and chest. “Quiet.” he mumbled. 

Laughing softly he nodded, holding Dean close. “Yeah it is.” he murmured, looking up and not surprised in the least when Sams door opened as well.

Sam didn't have a moment to say anything before John picked him up as well. Sam gave a small sleepy smile and reached for his brother. 

Sighing a bit in relief, John went into his bedroom holding his sons close he felt the knot inside of him start to lessen and untangle as they laid down. 

“Night boys.” John murmured, feeling his sons already being asleep. He easily fell asleep as well, knowing his sons were close and safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Supernatural. 
> 
> 159/365
> 
> I do take requests so if you have requests you can send them to me.


	8. Chapter 8

John stared at Henry across the table in the morning, he’d allowed the boys to stay in his room to eat their breakfast so that he could have this moment with him. His jaw worked from side to side and he took a deep breath. 

“What?” he finally asked, marveling that his voice was steady.

Henry met his gaze easily, leaning back in his seat and having one leg crossed over the other. “Your sons need to start their lessons.” he repeated. “They’re overdue to start and as for you. Well, you’re a hunter,” he didn't even try to hide the face he made at that fact. “But I can teach you on a rapid program.”

“I’m not going to stop being a hunter.” John told him. “And my sons aren't going to be doing anything.”

“John be reasonable.” Henry said waving his hand as if he was trying to wave their troubles away. “Our family, the Winchesters, have been a part of the men of letters for countless generations, almost to the beginning of its roots in Europe.”

“Fascinating.” John said fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “But I don't care. I’m not giving up hunting, I need to find the thing, the demon that killed my wife.”

“Leave those barbarian antics to the regular hunters.” Henry told him. “You’re a legacy John, you’re bloodline is secure. You're worth so much more than any other hunter, this wasn't what you were supposed to be doing.”

“Again, I don't care.” John said taking a deep drink of his coffee. “You can keep saying whatever the hell you want, I don't care. Nothing you say is going to change my mind.”

Henry gave him a leveled look, raising his chin a bit more. “And your sons?” he asked. 

“They’re not going to do it either, they’ll know about the supernatural and they’ll know how to hunt it.” John told him. “But otherwise they’re going to be normal, they’re not going to live a life like a hunter or whatever of letters.”

“Men of letters.” Henry corrected him. “And you're going to break our family tradition? My father and his father before him, going back, you're going to stop it.”

“Yes.” John said simply. “Way I see it, all of this has been doing nothing but hurting my family and hurting everyone I care about. I’m going to end it with hunting this demon down and after that, that's it.”

“You're denying them quite a bit that's in their blood.” Henry said. “Denying them their patriarchal line of being a man of letters as well as their matriarchal line of hunting.”

John tensed up again, tightening his grip on his cup. “Mary was from a hunter's family.”

In an answer Henry reached down to the bag at his feet and pulled out a folder, sliding it along the table to him. 

“This is what I was doing last night, I was looking into our archives.” Henry said as John stared at the folder suspiciously. “Specifically, I was looking into the hunting families that we trusted and worked alongside.” he nodded at the folder. “That is a basic summary of the Campbell family of hunters.”

John forced himself to breathe out as he stared at the folder, willing himself not to shake. 

“You seem afraid to look into it.” Henry said, leaning back in his own seat once more. “If you’re so certain then there’s no harm in looking into it.”

“Shut up.” John snapped at him. He gave himself one more moment before he reached out and opened the folder. 

And already, the first thing he saw was an old picture of Samuel Campbell, Mary's father, simply staring into the camera. The picture that was right next to him was Deanna Campbell. 

And right there under both the pictures, handwritten in a neat cursive. 

_Daughter: Mary Sandra Campbell Date of Birth: December 5th, 1954_

“Your wife came from a hunting family and I’m willing to bet anything that she was also a hunter.” Henry said, his voice a touch smug. “So yes, this is something that your boys should be continuing, one way or another.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Supernatural. 
> 
> 166/365
> 
> I do take requests so if you have requests you can send them to me.


	9. Chapter 9

Henry left him alone, thankfully. John couldn’t tear his eyes away from the folder and the names, hands shaking as he stared down at it. 

John stared down at the photo of Samuel Campbell, remembering the last time he had seen him dead on the ground and Mary had been holding him and crying. 

His eyes went to the photo of Deanna Campbell, remembering as well when he had taken Mary home her scream when she saw her mother on the ground with a broken neck. 

She barely stayed in town for the funeral, insisting on a cremation and the moment it was done she had grabbed her belongings and they were on the road together. 

And now looking back, it was a hunters standard funeral. One she barely stayed for before she begged him to leave. 

His fingers went to her name under her parents, tracing the letters a bit reverently. Mary Sandra Campbell, with Winchester added later that year. 

“Why didn't you tell me?” he whispered, wishing with everything that he could have a picture of her at this moment. He only had two photos and both of them were in the bedroom and he didn’t have the strength to get up as of yet. 

Fingers shaking he turned the page, reading the information about Mary's grandparents. There was a black and white picture of them and underneath was Samuel's name and a code, it looked like a category code. 

The following pages were the same, detailing more and more of the Campbell family, going back generations upon generations. 

The years went back further and further, each one was both a surprise and no longer a surprise. Towards the end of the folder there were less information but the very least he knew was the fact that there were Campbells on the Mayflower that brought the Pilgrims to America. 

There were two more pages on the Campbell ancestors based in Europe but after that, that was it. 

But it was more than enough, Mary had come from a line of hunters, a long line of hunters, and she had kept it a secret from him since day one. 

For a moment John wished to have whiskey for breakfast but pushed that thought to the side, he needed to have a clear head and he needed to be able to think.

John tried to think back, tried to think about any hints of Mary's past that she had been trying to hide. Tried to think about anything that would tell him about her secrets. 

He remembered being afraid for her, she had always been secretive about what went on in her house and her parents and more than once, she flinched away from both him and any topic of her parents. 

There were times that she would try to hide bruises and injuries, pulling her sleeves down to cover them. When she would hold herself a bit different that looking back showed him that her ribs were either broken or bruised. 

“Why didn't you tell me?” he whispered once more, taking a deep breath. He gripped at the folder tighter, staring at her name once more. 

He used to think the worst, back then it kept him up at night the most. The thought that maybe her father had been hurting her and she was trying to hide it. It was something that he wanted to ask her about but never was able to find the words. 

And now this, here he was facing the truth. The truth about his Mary that he never would've thought in a million years. 

Did she know that night what was going to happen? Did she know who was really in Sammy's nursery? Did she go into that room with some sort of weaponry that he hadn't seen? What had really happened that night?

"Mary." John whispered, his voice cracking. “Why didn't you tell me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Supernatural. 
> 
> 171/365
> 
> I do take requests so if you have requests you can send them to me.


	10. Chapter 10

John let himself wallow in the pain and the realization for a few moments longer before he straightened up in his seat. 

He looked down at Mary's name one more time before he closed the folder and tucked it under his arm, getting up and going to his bedroom where his boys were having breakfast. 

There was no point in remaining in the past and thinking the worst or the best, he'd never get his answers and unless he could find a spell in here to change the past, he'd never get closure on this so it was better to shove it to the side. 

He couldn't focus on Mary's past, it was hers and it was something that he couldn't control. He accepted it completely, there was no other choice or option he could take. And now...

He knocked on the bedroom door to give them a moment and opened it, relaxing when he saw the boys on the bed with bowls of cereal. 

And now he had to focus on his sons and making sure they were safe and happy. 

"Daddy." Sam said around a spoonful of cereal. "You okay?"

John nodded, smiling reassuringly at them. "I'm fine." he said. He placed the folder into his bag, at least the boys wouldn't look into there. He sat down on the edge of the bed and watched the both of them, feeling a bit of an empty feeling in his chest. He tried to ignore it and took a deep breath. 

"What do you boys want to do today?" he asked, wanting and needing to see them smile a bit more today. 

Sam and Dean looked at one another and then back to him. "Aren't we staying here?" Dean asked, I am a bit worried. 

John nodded. "We are." he assured them. "But we also can do whatever we want. Wanna go to the park in town? See a movie? Explore more? What do you boys want to do today?"

Sam chewed on the inside of his cheek and shifted slightly. "Can we stay together?" he asked a bit hesitantly. "Cause we're not together a lot."

John quickly nodded once more. "Together, whatever we do it'll be together." he said, the warm sensation filling the slight pain in his chest.

Dean brightened at that, grinning a bit more. "So maybe..." he glanced around thoughtfully. "Maybe we can just kinda look around?"

"And we can go to the park too." Sam added. "We can do everything today."

John smiled and reached for the boys, taking them into his arms. He didn't try to resist the urge to kiss the top of their heads, marveling and just enjoying the knowledge that his sons, his and Marys, were happy and safe and alright. 

"Alright, let's start exploring." he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Supernatural. 
> 
> 176/365
> 
> I do take requests so if you have requests you can send them to me.


	11. Chapter 11

John sighed as he closed another box, grabbing his notepad to add what he had found and then looked up at the rest of the boxes, feeling a twinge when he saw just how many more boxes there were to go.

Henry and Bobby were somewhere else doing the same thing, there were countless rooms for them to go through and not a real list of what was in them. Some were behind spell boxes to hold them so those were put to the side to examine later. 

But the vast majority seemed to just be some sort of talismans, items either containing some sort of magic or came from an interesting background. 

Some he just didn't understand, there were more than one schools around the mating rituals of various animals that he didn't want to know or need to know but for some reason the men of letters in the past thought it was a good idea. 

Shaking his head he rubbed at his eyes, debating whether or not to go to the kitchen to grab another cup of coffee. 

He glanced at his wrist to make sure of the time, the boys were still at school for some time, and it was still hard for him to stay on schedule and not go to the school to check on them to make sure that they were okay. 

They've been in the bunker for almost a month now. The boys had gotten enrolled in Lebanon's schools ever since the second week and they took to it like a fire. They didn't have that many friends yet, neither of them were really sure of how to really connect with the other kids. 

He tried to push down the worry and stress that he felt coming up, tried to swallow down everything and leaned against the wall instead. 

He wanted his boys close to him always, he wanted to make sure that they were okay, them being so far away, at school which was almost an hours drive, was exhausting in more ways than one, but he also knew that it was for the best of the kids needs. 

But god he missed his sons. 

Shaking his head he tried to focus on the task on hand, wanting to get through a few more boxes before it was time for him to go and pick the boys up. 

He pulled the closest box to him and opened it, picking through it as he tried to figure out the best way to categorize them. 

He picked up a small box, he could hear things rolling around in there and opened it, staring at the small round balls inside. They were not marked in anyway, there was nothing telling him what it was, and quite honestly they looked harmless. 

Nothing in the bunker was harmless, he knew that much. Without thinking about it too much John picked up one of the balls, holding onto it and rolling it around on his hand. He put the small box down and just looked over the ball, trying to figure out what it was. 

The ball suddenly gave a small, dull glow in his hand and then he felt a tug around his navel.

John blinked hard, the ball in his hand fell into sand in his hands. Some of them coursed into his skin and he gripped at it, watching the sand imbedded into his arm and then turn into 24:00:00.

“What the hell?” he whispered, eyes widening when he saw the numbers start to change with each, literally, second. 23:59:57. 23:59:56. 23:59:55.

It was counting down something but he couldn't tell what and that was a bit chilling. 

Bringing his head up he realized that he was also no longer in the bunker, he was in a hospital of some sort, in the hallway among other patients and doctors and nurses that were roaming around. 

He looked down at his arm again, 23:57:34, and tugged his sleeve down, starting to walk down the hallway as he tried to figure out where he was and what was going on. He tried to push the panic down, he'd figure this out.

He couldn't recognize the hospital, being a hunter he had gotten more accustomed to them than he wanted to. But nothing stood out to him, if anything it made him more confused because he swore that the machines were all outdated. 

"What the hell is going on here?" he muttered under his breath, turning a corner, his eyes going over all the signs.

He froze when he passed one room, automatically reading the names out of habit. He moved back to reread the name, feeling his heart starts to beat faster. He couldn't stop himself from peeking into the room again, feeling as if he was about to throw up. 

The name on the board and the girl on the bed was Mary Campbell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Supernatural. 
> 
> 181/365
> 
> I do take requests so if you have requests you can send them to me.


	12. Chapter 12

John felt like he couldn't breathe. Mary was awake but was reading in bed, heavily bandaged and a black eye but she was still so beautiful that he couldn't look away. 

He didn't understand, what the hell was happening? Where was he? Why was he seeing this? Did that little ball in the bunker kill him and he's in heaven?

A doctor was coming up towards the room so he forced himself to back away from the room, glancing at the room number and committing it to memory before he turned and left, feeling as if each step was like there was a boulder tied to each of his feet. 

Nothing made sense, why was Mary here young and alive? He glanced down at his arm once more, noting that the numbers had decreased again. From 24:00 and counting down. Like the hours in a day. 

Spotting an abandoned newspaper he picked it up and glanced at the date, slowly breathing out. The date on top was November 11th, 1972. 

He was in the past. He was in the fucking past where Mayr was alive, and they had been dating for only a few months at this point. He actually remembered this date too, he had wondered where Mary had gone, she had cited that she and her parents were going to visit some relatives out east and would be gone for at least two weeks. 

He remembered missing her so much and being so happy when she came back that that was what convinced him and he had gone to look at rings that day. 

He was in the past due to something magical in the bunker of men of letters with a countdown on his arm. A part of him hoped that once the countdown was done he would be able to go back home to his own time and his sons. 

But at the same time, he glanced back towards the room where Mary was, the doctor was leaving again, talking to the person next to him who looked like a social worker. 

He could go somewhere and wait out the rest of the time before the countdown finished and he could, hopefully, go home. 

Or he could…

Swallowing hard he put the newspaper down John started back towards the room, his heart pounding in his ears loudly. He reached it and took a deep breath, Mary was reading her book again and he knocked on the doorframe.

Mary glanced up at him, setting the book down onto her lap. “Can I help you?” she asked, her voice was a bit rough and when John looked down at the bandages on her neck it was obvious that someone had tried to strangle her. 

John swallowed, just staring at her for a moment before he came into the room, well aware of how hard she was staring at him and following his movements. “I...I need to talk to you.”

Mary slowly nodded, not taking her eyes off of him. He couldn't look away from her either, feeling his body shake as he stared at her. God she looked so beautiful. 

“You're a hunter.” Mary stated, not putting it like a question. “I handed the ghoul, its dead, I don't need your help.”

And there was that last confirmation, that Mary had been raised as a hunter and knew about the supernatural. “I’m a hunter, but I’m not here about that.” he managed to get out, sitting down on a chair at the side of her bed. 

Mary raised an eyebrow at him, clearing her throat for a moment as her hand came up to massage at it. “Then what?”

“I just...wanted to tell you something.” John said softly, teetering between the urge to throw up and tear up. “Mary...it's something important.”

“Well apparently not because you’re not really telling me what it is.” Mary said raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Mary, I’m from the future.” John managed to get out, seeing her eyes widen. “And there's more than a few things you need to know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Supernatural. 
> 
> 184/365
> 
> I do take requests so if you have requests you can send them to me.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Supernatural. 
> 
> 60/365
> 
> I do take requests so if you have requests you can send them to me.


End file.
